


The Way To A Man's Heart...

by sallyamongpoison



Series: Menu du Jour [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, admitting they want to stay together, cooking at home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 09:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: In which Dorian goes over to Cullen's for a second time to help with a cooking conundrum, agrees to go out on another date, and things get steamy.





	The Way To A Man's Heart...

The sudden chirping of his phone snapped Dorian back to attention. His eyes had been glazed over for the last fifteen minutes as he watched a video of...something. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he’d been watching. He’d been mesmerized, really. Had he even been...yes, yes he had. One Dorian Pavus had even managed to drool a little on his shirt in his stupor. Maker, maybe he was more tired than he thought.

In any case, he shook his head, looked down to where his phone was _still_ chirping at him, and he picked it up to see Cullen’s name flash across the caller ID. One eyebrow cocked. Wasn’t Cullen on shift right now? It was a rare thing for the man to call in the middle of his eighteen hours, even if they had been doing this dating thing for just over a month. Dorian had never minded either: when Cullen was at work his focus was on work, and (for a wonder) Dorian rather preferred it that way. Cullen’s job was stressful enough, and getting distracted at the wrong time could only lead to bad things. So this? The calling now? Odd. Though a strange pit formed in his stomach.

Hopefully nothing was wrong.

“Did you butt-dial me by mistake?” Dorian asked as he pressed the phone to his ear.

There was a pause, then a laugh, “Ah, no. Not that I know about. Did I call you before this?” Cullen sounded in good spirits, and it didn’t seem like anything was amiss. In fact, there wasn’t much trace of that Work Tone that often came up in text messages when Cullen was on shift. He sounded...relaxed. That was good.

“No, just wondering.”

“I was calling to ask what you were doing tomorrow night,” Cullen said, “and because….well…”

“Well?” Dorian asked. He’d paused the video, curled up a bit more on the couch, and smiled expectantly. Cullen wasn’t there to see it, but Dorian didn’t so much mind. He knew Cullen could hear it in his voice.

“I…” Cullen began again, “wanted to hear your voice. Is that weird?”

Dorian’s heart beat hard for a moment. It was like his chest was suddenly too small to fit his heart and those words took up every spare inch of available space. He took a breath, tried to calm the way his pulse fluttered, and licked his lips. This always happened with Cullen. Whether it was a look or the way Cullen touched him or something he said...it made something inside Dorian expand until it cracked. Like there was a part of him that needed more space to hold onto whatever it was that Cullen said or did. Every time.

“No,” Dorian managed after a moment, “not weird. I, uh, I...I wanted to hear yours too, actually.”

“I hope you’re not just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he replied, “I’m really not.”

Another soft laugh, and Dorian felt his blood warm and his cheeks heat for the sound of it. It was one of those laughs that he felt more than he heard. “So what about tomorrow night?” Cullen asked, “want to come over?”

“Absolutely,” Dorian answered almost immediately. With anyone else, any time before this, he would have tried to play it cool. He would have tried to be coy. But with Cullen, and only with Cullen, Dorian never wanted to pretend. It was a strange, new feeling. He just didn’t want to play _that guy_. He wanted to be as genuine as Cullen was.

“Say seven-thirty?”

“Seven- thirty,” Dorian repeated, which earned him a laugh, “should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself. And, I guess, if you want anything special to drink or whatever.”

“I’ll be there. Try to...you know, I hope the rest of your shift is alright.”

“Well, I have something to look forward to now,” Cullen said, “I’ll text you when I’m headed home.”

\--

Once upon a time Dorian Pavus would never have admitted to the fact that he was genuinely excited for a date. Perhaps he’d felt that way before, if he searched his heart and mind a little, but never before had he let himself indulge in such a feeling. He took note of how he smiled when Cullen texted him. It wasn’t much, just _home safe_ , but it made a light and airy feeling fill his chest. It was like the first sunny day after a string of thunderstorms. But that was Cullen, though. The man was sunshine made flesh, really. And his light and warmth with just a simple note made Dorian’s world a little less shadowed and cold.

The rest of the evening had come and gone with Dorian feeling just a little happier. He’d hummed to himself as he did laundry, let his mind wander as he watched those soothing videos that required little to no real attention, and he just _felt_. He let himself imagine what the next night was going to be, if Cullen had another nice dinner they both made in mind, and even that made a little smile raise the ends of his mustache. Had he ever smiled so much about another man before? Had he ever looked forward to seeing someone like this? The short answer was no. Not like this. Of course he’d always agreed to spend time with Rilienus or whoever it was that asked him out, but he’d never thought on the prospect of the time they shared. It was just...time. With Cullen it was laughter and smiled and those gentle kisses that turned his knees to water.

Work the following day had gone by quickly. That was surprising. Of course he always enjoyed going in every day.  He’d never been much of clock watcher or a ‘is it time to go home yet’ type of guy. When he was excited about something, though, the hours seemed to crawl. Today, though, he’d only looked at the clock three times before he was packing up to head home. His heart was beating in his chest, and there was a spring in his step that he couldn’t hide.

He got to _see_ Cullen tonight. He got to spend time with him. Maybe there would even be more of those kisses. The thought of that had distracted him a bit, here and there, since the last time. Dorian had never been much of one to think about that kind of thing, but in his mind’s eye he could perfectly recreate the feeling of Cullen’s lips pressing gently against his own. It had been perfect in its way, the whole night had been, and he licked his lips as though he could still taste Cullen on them. This was excitement about a person, about the way he felt when he was with him, and he liked it.

Oddly, he liked himself a little better too. Being happier and having something to really and truly look forward to was something altogether different to how he’d been living before that fated cooking class.

Then it was a quick shower and a raid of his wine collection before he was in a car. Headed to Cullen’s now, Dorian couldn’t help the way he smiled as he pulled out his phone. They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk all day, but Dorian sent off a quick _omw. 10 mins?_ before he slipped his phone back into his pocket. The ride was short, but Dorian was glad for it. Knowing he got to see Cullen again meant he didn’t want to have to wait. His knee bounced up and down, and he turned to look out the window at the passing cars. Even ten minutes felt like it was too long.

This time he didn’t hesitate at the door. Dorian buzzed Cullen’s apartment, leaned against the brick, and waited for the man to answer. That same fluttering in his stomach and chest was still there, but this time it didn’t throw him. Instead he embraced it. It was thrilling to have a bit of nerves, after all.

A buzz, then “it’s been twelve minutes, you know.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and let out a seemingly exasperated sigh, “does this mean you’ll be keeping me after class?”

“Is it a punishment if you want me to?”

“Why don’t you let me up and we’ll figure that out?”

A buzz sounded then, and the front door jutted open a little. Dorian chuckled to himself, and let himself in and into the elevator. This time his stomach wasn’t in knots. He was excited, maybe a bit antsy to get to Cullen’s apartment, but the nerves had settled into something light and buzzing. Excitement and not anxiety, really. Dorian could work with that.

Cullen let him in with a smile, and as the door was closed over behind him they both leaned in for another of those soft and gentle kisses. Dorian felt it all the way down to his toes just like he had the first time, and when Cullen moved away they were both smiling. It was a nice feeling. What was also nice was perhaps the hint of pink in Cullen’s cheeks as well. Dorian had always adored getting men to blush at his mere presence, of course he did, but with Cullen there was something that much more rewarding about it. Maybe it was the pale skin that showed it off a bit better, but it made the smile on Dorian’s face grow all the same.

“So, what’s the occasion?” Dorian asked as he held out the bottle of Cabernet that he’d pilfered from his wine reserves, “or did you just miss me?”

“I missed you,” Cullen answered, then winked, “and...I had a question for you. That I wanted to ask in person.”

One of Dorian’s eyebrows cocked, and Cullen nodded toward the kitchen. Dorian followed him. He half expected another layout like the last time he’d been over there: a rather fancy something for them to make together, but instead there were a few plates of cold cuts and some very nice Orlesian baguette sitting on the counter. Fancy sandwiches for dinner, it seemed. They could do worse.

After he set the bottle down, Dorian moved to wind his arms around Cullen’s waist from behind. He hugged himself in close, rested his cheek against Cullen’s back, and just sighed happily. The press of Cullen’s body against his own was nice. It was warm. It was strong without being overwhelming, too. Dorian didn’t like to be made to feel small, but with Cullen it was the right mix of muscle and softness that made him not want to move. He didn’t feel like he could be taken over, not unless he allowed it, but there was no worry that Cullen would break either.

One of Cullen’s hands rested over Dorian’s where they sat on his abdomen, and Dorian smiled as he felt Cullen’s thumb trace his knuckles. It was a simple gesture: sweet and warm without being overbearing, and he nuzzled his face in against the fresh smelling shirt Cullen wore at the feeling of it. “Is this question about fancy sandwiches?” he asked after a long moment, “because I’m very much a fan of those.”

“No,” Cullen chuckled, “I mean, I’m glad, but no. This was all I could manage to pull together tonight. I figured if we wanted something a bit more upscale we could...I don’t know, do this again in a couple of days?”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me about it.”

Cullen moved in Dorian’s arms, turned around to face him so he could rest one hand at Dorian’s hip and the other cupped his cheek. Dorian felt that closeness burning in him. Like that their eyes locked, and for a moment there was no one else in the world save for them. There was nowhere else, just this little apartment, and no need to worry about anything other than what they were going to eat and what to do afterward. In a weird way there was a safety there. Cullen seemed to have no expectations about it, or if he did he never made them known, and Dorian liked that. There were no roles to play. Just Cullen and Dorian. Cullen and Dorian eating sandwiches. That was freeing.

“I was wondering if you’d help me out, for one,” Cullen murmured as his thumb brushed against Dorian’s cheekbone. It was so gentle that Dorian hardly felt it, though he closed his eyes for the attention. “There’s a...thing coming up, and I need to work on my plating. Maybe you could give me some constructive criticism?”

“And you think I know anything about that?” Dorian asked. His voice was soft, a bit dreamy, and he opened one eye to look into Cullen’s honey brown ones. “I mean, other than eating in some rather nice restaurants?”

“Still more than I know,” Cullen pointed out, “my typical place is fancy if there’s chives on the baked potato.”

Dorian laughed for that, and turned to press a kiss against Cullen’s thumb, “Remind me that I need to get you out more. The local chain steakhouse is hardly the height of cuisine in these parts.”

“It is if you want the food for the price,” Cullen said, “ but that’s a yes I hope. That you’ll help me?”

“It is, yes.”

And oh, how Cullen’s smile grew. It warmed, too, until it seemed as though the whole of Cullen’s being was as bright and happy as a summer day. He leaned in again, pressed a kiss first to Dorian’s lips then against his forehead. The hand at Dorian’s hip tangled in the hem of his shirt, and that moment was perfect. It was like they each had two heartbeats: one on the inside and one outside, and Dorian was loathe to move.

“But what’s this ‘thing’ that means you need to work on your plating skills?” Dorian asked as Cullen moved away to start slicing the bread that was sitting on the counter. He busied himself by opening the wine and pouring them each a glass as Cullen worked, and leaned against the counter with his as he watched.

Cullen was quiet for a moment as he finished with the bread, and moved to turn on a waiting sandwich press that was also plugged in on the counter. “Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to ask you.”

“In person.”

“In person,” he affirmed, “just because you said you were interested the last time we talked about it.”

Well, that was certainly interesting. Dorian thought back to the last time he’d been over and their messages in between. He couldn’t recall any ‘thing’ that Cullen mentioned that would involve plating.

“I’m all ears, then,” Dorian said.

“You remember how I said we have those Iron Chef type cook offs at the station, right?” Cullen asked, “with the belt and the glory and all that?”

Ah yes. That. Cullen had spoken of it when they’d met. Presumably that had been why he’d taken the cooking class at all. Dorian nodded, smile fully visible on his features as he sipped his wine. He could only hope this was leading where he wanted it to.

“So...usually it’s just us on a shift when we do it,” Cullen went on, “but we’re kind of in a tight spot right now with this training we want to go do, but don’t have the money for it, and it’s all a big thing. So our Chief tossed out the idea of a fundraiser, which we were going to do anyway, and she said it would be a cool idea if we did the cook off for that. I mean, you know, have food for people to buy and everything, but also do that as some of the entertainment. Maybe try to get some local people that aren’t just the family and everything to come out. Maybe get a judge or something from one of the papers?”

“Mm hmm, and there’s a question in there I assume?” Dorian teased.

Cullen laughed, then nodded. He looked up from the sandwiches he was currently assembling to meet Dorian’s gaze and smiled. “It’s in about three weeks. On a Saturday. Would you maybe want to come? I mean, if you can?” he asked.

So yes. Yes, indeed, the question had gone the way Dorian hoped. He grinned, set down his wine glass, and moved next to Cullen so he could lean up and kiss his cheek, “I will make sure I can,” Dorian told him, “absolutely. I would love to go.”

“Really, you would?”

“Of course! Partially to support our local heroes to get the training they need, but mostly to support my favorite amateur chef in kicking some challenger’s arse for the fun of it.”

Cullen blushed for real this time: from the tips of his ears down through his face and neck until it disappeared under the collar of his shirt. He wiped one hand on a towel, then slung his arm around Dorian’s waist so he could turn and press a kiss against the other man’s temple. “I’d really like it if you came,” he said softly, “I just, I feel like maybe I’d do even better knowing you were there.”

“Saying I’m your good luck charm now?” Dorian teased, “because I don’t think I mind that.”

“Well, you’re more than that,” Cullen offered, “but that too. And I think it would be fun, you know? You said you wanted to see it, and I’d _hoped_ -”

“Cullen,” Dorian hushed gently, “I’ll go. Okay? I’m already sold.”

He seemed to relax a bit at that, and he kissed Dorian’s temple again, “Good,” he said after a breath, “I...that’s good. Really good.”

They stayed like that for a while. Cullen seemed in no hurry to let Dorian go, and Dorian certainly had no desire to move away. Just that gentle way Cullen slung his arm around Dorian’s waist was just so nice. He didn’t feel claustrophobic like he had before with other men, nor did he feel as though his space wasn’t important. If he wanted to move, Cullen would have let him. Instead they were just happy to exist next to one another. That was...well, the whole thing was new. Dorian was trying very hard not to contemplate it all too much. Overthinking would ruin things, and he didn’t want this to be ruined.

Eventually they parted so Cullen could finish loading up the very impressive sandwiches. They looked better than most that Dorian had paid real money for, and as they toasted the kitchen started to smell amazing. That was a running theme with them: yummy things cooking while they spent time together. They chatted lightly, shared a glass of wine each, and by the time the sandwiches were done Dorian’s stomach was rumbling. Had he been that hungry before he got there? Maybe, but there was food now and he wanted it.

“So now we eat?” Dorian asked.

“Not yet,” Cullen said, and moved to grab down two bowls from the cupboard. There had been a pot on low heat on the stove the entire time they’d been in there, and Dorian was happily surprised to see tomato soup warming when Cullen lifted the lid. “This is where the plating comes in tonight.”

“Oh, well, forgive me,” Dorian laughed as he held up his hands, “plate away.”

So Cullen did. The bowls were filled, and he moved back to the counter before he pulled a small tub of sour cream from the fridge. Dorian tipped his head to the side as he watched Cullen try to put a swirl in the top of the soup, and winced as it came out as more of a blob. Not terribly pretty, that. The other man frowned, tried to push it around a bit more with the the spoon but succeeded only in making the blob turn pink as it melted into the soup.

“Shit,” Cullen sighed, “see what I mean?”

Dorian leaned over a bit to watch, bit a little on his lower lip, then lifted his gaze to meet Cullen’s. “Too thick, you think?” he asked, “or...too cold?”

“Maybe?”

“What else have you got?”

“Just...you know, some green onion and cheese. If you’re into that for your soup, I mean.”

He nodded, “Yeah, go for it. Let’s see how that looks.”

This time was a bit better. Cullen sprinkled a nice spiral of shredded cheese over the top and dusted the green onion on. That looked better. The man had a deft hand for all he looked like a Fereldan brute in a flannel shirt and work boots. Dorian was impressed.

“I’d say this is a fine spread,” Dorian told Cullen as they settled in on the couch with food and drink. They could have opted for the table like they’d done the last time, but this just felt a bit more personal. Cozy. dorian liked sitting next to Cullen and getting to rest a hand on his leg as they made themselves comfortable.

Cullen sighed, “I wish that drizzle had looked better, I’m going to need to do more than just some cheese to win that cook off.”

For that, Dorian squeezed Cullen’s knee and leaned over to kiss his shoulder, “You have some time to work on it,” he pointed out, “and I’ll gladly offer up my time and taste buds to help, if you want.”

“You weren’t kidding about the being a stray, huh?”

“I never kid about free food,” Dorian said proudly, “but, in all seriousness, whatever I can do to help. You know I will.”

“I appreciate that, Dorian,” Cullen replied softly. He reached out an arm, pulled Dorian in closer, and kissed at the top of his head, “I...you know, it’s weird. I’ve never really known anyone who was this supportive of the cooking thing. I mean, the other guys at work are happy to eat what I make and my family is always glad to have some extra help on holidays, but…”

“Well, I think I’m starting to appreciate it a bit more.”

“I know I said this before, and it kind of makes me sound like an arsehole, but I am really glad we got to cook together at that class,” Cullen told him, “I know your date didn’t show, but-”

“His loss,” Dorian interrupted, “our gain. I’m glad I happened to catch the one you went to.”

They ate together happily after that. Dorian was glad it was just something simple, if he was being honest. The steak and everything before had been great, but it was nice to settle back into the couch with a full stomach but not one so full he felt like he couldn’t move. Cullen’s body was warm and strong against his own, and the arm that slipped around Dorian’s shoulders was a comfortable weight. Like that, there on the couch while some show or other played on the tv in front of them, Dorian was warm and happy. Full. Content.

Had he ever been content like this? At least, had he ever been so content when he was curled up on the couch with someone? As they sat there, Dorian’s gaze was on the screen, but his mind wandered. He thought of Rilienus, thought about what little they did together that wasn’t just falling into bed or going to a bar, and could never remember a feeling like this. He’d been happy, he supposed, but never at ease like this. Before Rilienus, too, there had been others. Nothing serious, or as serious as he and Rilienus had ever been, but he couldn’t ever remember just sitting and sharing time. There was always something else to be doing. Now, though… Dorian was happy to sit there with his head on Cullen’s shoulder with Cullen’s arm around him.

Dorian took a deep breath, shifted a little, and wound his arm around Cullen’s middle. Carefully, he slipped out of his shoes as well and lifted them up so he was half stretched across the couch while curled up with the other man. The hand that rested on Dorian’s shoulder moved, traced circles over his sleeve and up to the collar of his shirt, and Cullen turned to look down at him. He was smiling that same warm smile that made Dorian’s insides flutter. It made Dorian smile too, and grey eyes looked up into honey brown ones for a long moment.

The look broke with a chuckle from them both, and Dorian resettled himself with his head against Cullen’s shoulder. He felt that laugh more than he’d heard it from Cullen, deep in his chest, and that teamed with the light way those fingers touched him made his blood go a bit warm. Thus far they’d not moved beyond kisses, and even those were light and gentle. Dorian had a feeling that was Cullen’s way, though. He was a kind and gentle sort of person, not seemingly the type to jump into bed the first day, and he had a dignity about him that not too many others had. Even Dorian, who would have happily stayed the last time he was there had Cullen not been called to work, could boast that. He was a creature ruled by his own desires. And, oh, how he desired Cullen.

Oddly, though, he didn’t feel terribly frustrated. That was new. There was no wondering why Cullen hadn’t taken him to bed yet or that gross sort of crawling feeling down in his gut that maybe Cullen didn’t even _want_ to. Clearly there was something or else the way Cullen’s fingers crept along is skin now wouldn’t even be happening.

Those fingers were at the crook of his neck now. Dorian could feel that they were rough, a bit calloused and thick, but Cullen’s hands were warm. Gently, they traced along the curve from his neck to his shoulder then moved up to brush along Dorian’s throat. It made a shiver go through him, and he could feel his cheeks flush just a bit as he shifted how he was pressed against Cullen so that he could give him more space to touch. Dorian wanted more. He liked that it was so gentle, like the ghost of a feeling than a full touch, and as he tried to focus on whatever was playing in front of him Dorian couldn’t help but bite his lower lip a little.

Moments passed like that, though both Dorian and Cullen shifted subtly so they were facing each other a bit more. Dorian’s mind was far from whatever plot was happening on the television by now, and smiled as he felt Cullen press a kiss against his hair. The kisses didn’t stop there, though, and it was only Cullen’s nudging to get him to lift his head that made Dorian able to think enough to move. Between those fingers on his neck, Cullen’s lips pressing kisses down from his temple to his ear to his cheek, Dorian didn’t stand a chance. He closed his eyes and let out a small sound when Cullen’s lips touched his pulse.

This was a bit like making out in his parents’ den when he was a teenager. Despite the fact that they were alone in Cullen’s apartment there was that same thrill that came from those kisses and that touch. Dorian’s fingers tangled in Cullen’s shirt, and he pulled a bit to get Cullen closer. Every brush of lips and fingertips made his heart beat faster, and Dorian hissed when just the barest graze of teeth touched his skin. Maker help him. He hadn’t done anything like this in so long, and it _absolutely_ worked for him.

“Cullen,” Dorian breathed, and tipped his chin down so that he could catch Cullen’s lips in a kiss.

That kiss was unlike the others. He’d half expected it to start out sweet and gentle, as they had been up til then, but Dorian was pleasantly surprised. Cullen’s mouth was on his own, and the man kissed him so thoroughly that Dorian felt it all the way down his spine. The heat in that kiss, the way Cullen half groaned as he pushed his tongue past Dorian’s lips, it made Dorian’s head spin. Cullen’s other hand, not the one that was draped across his shoulder and keeping him close, cupped Dorian’s cheek. He could feel that warmth against his skin, and it only made Dorian want to pull Cullen closer.

It was as though Cullen was everywhere. The heat that came off of him practically surrounded Dorian on that couch. He could taste Cullen, feel him breathing, and Dorian lifted both hands to tangle in Cullen’s hair as he kissed him back. At that point there was no need to breathe. There was nothing but that kiss and the press of Cullen’s body and the touch of his hand. Dorian didn’t need anything else. He didn’t _want_ anything else. Ever. If he could live in this moment for the rest of his life he could die a happy man.

Finally, the kiss broke. They were both out of breath by then, and Cullen ducked under Dorian’s jaw to start kissing at his neck again. “Maker,” Cullen whispered against Dorian’s pulse, and kissed at it until Dorian gasped. “Dorian, I…” he started, by couldn’t seem to finish the sentence. Those lips sought every sensitive place on Dorian’s throat, and those big hands smoothed down to start pulling at the hem of his shirt.

Those kisses didn’t stop as Cullen pulled that shirt up and over Dorian’s head, and for just a moment as he let the fabric fall across the back of the couch Cullen just stared. Now, Dorian knew exactly the picture he made. He worked very hard to cultivate a certain...aesthetic. Every muscle he had was from long hours in the gym (with a bit of help from good genes) and Dorian made sure when a man took his clothes off that they would be awed. Cullen seemed to be.

He could feel the weight of that gaze. The way Cullen breathed, too...slow, but deep. It almost looked as though the man were hypnotized. Dorian would take that. If ever someone could hypnotize a man just for looking amazing, Dorian Pavus could do it. He tipped his head to the side, watched Cullen watching him, and smirked. One hand reach out, tangled back in Cullen’s shirt, and pulled him back in.

“Come here,” Dorian growled, and kissed Cullen again.

This time both hands went to cup Dorian’s face. Those fingers dug in at the nape of his neck and in the shorter hair of his undercut. Cullen’s thumbs brushed over his cheeks, and Cullen kissed him like he needed that kiss to breathe. To live. Perhaps he did. Perhaps they both did. The Maker only knew that he couldn’t get enough, and Dorian rested his hands on Cullen’s shoulders before he started to pull at the soft fabric of the other man’s shirt. He wanted it off. He wanted to know what was under all those clothes. He wanted to see Cullen’s body. He wanted to feel it against his own.

The kiss was only broken long enough for Cullen to let Dorian practically rip his shirt off over his head, and Dorian hardly cared where he flung it after. Then Cullen was on him, and he felt himself tipping backward until he was stretched out along the couch with the other man practically on top of him. Dorian’s hands wandered, touched and felt along the ropes of muscle at Cullen’s back, and in the back of his mind where he was still coherent through that kiss he rather liked what he felt. Cullen, though, just cupped Dorian’s face again. He held him close, kissed him deeply, and in that moment it was perhaps one of the most intimate feelings Dorian had ever experienced.

But then they needed to breathe again. They were both practically breathless with chests heaving. Like before, Cullen tipped his chin down and his lips were back at Dorian’s throat. Those kisses made it feel like someone put a live wire to Dorian’s nerve endings, and he squirmed and sighed for every brush of lips as they moved from his neck to his collarbone. He’d have been lying if he said this hadn’t been what he wanted. And yet, somehow, it still felt different. This wasn’t the mutually understood foreplay of the evening. With anyone else Dorian might have supposed that this was only happening because it was expected. With Cullen, he genuinely felt the desire and need in every kiss and bite that peppered his skin from Cullen’s lips.

He felt a hand, one that had been resting at his hip, move. Dorian’s head fell back, and he groaned as Cullen bit at the sensitive skin at his neck while his hand pressed against the front of Dorian’s pants. Maker help him, but he was already hard. How could he not be? That warm hand and both the pressure from his jeans and Cullen’s palm made his cock throb. Both hands went back to Cullen’s hair, and Dorian arched his back as he felt those lovely fingers pop the button his fly.

“Yes,” he whimpered, “please. Cullen please-”

Another bite, and in an instant his zipper was undone and Cullen’s hand was cupping his cock. A cry was trapped at the back of Dorian’s throat, as was his breath. Cullen had stolen that. There was nothing but that feeling now. It was just that sharp heat of the bite and Cullen’s hand on him. Dorian’s entire being was focused solely on those two things and nothing else. He was on fire: burning hot from their shared heat and the way his blood was pumping.  There was nothing else. There was nothing but them, and they way Cullen touched him, and-

“Maybe the couch isn’t the best place for this.”

Cullen’s voice was soft in his ear. Panting. Breathless. He nuzzled in at Dorian’s ear, nipped at his ear lobe, and kissed at that spot just behind it that made Dorian shiver.

“You want me to move?” Dorian asked. Genuinely, he was proud of the fact that he could form a sentence.

Another kiss, and the hand on Dorian’s cock squeezed just enough to make him groan again. “More space might be a good idea,” Cullen pointed out, “I haven’t had to get someone out of a pair of pants on a couch since I was sixteen, but I remember it being a nightmare.”

He was right. Dorian knew he was right. Besides, unless Cullen was the type to keep lube and condoms in his coffee table drawer they would have to move eventually anyway. It was probably a better idea to do it now than when things had _really_ kicked off. “You’re going to have to get off of me, then, you know,” he teased, and tugged at Cullen’s hair with the one hand still firmly nestled in those blond curls.

The sound Cullen made for that was...beautiful. He hissed a bit, and just the softest moan bubbled up from his chest. Dorian filed that away for later. That sound alone was going to get him through many a night alone when Cullen had to go to work.

“Here,” Cullen said after he came back to himself, “let me...uh, help you up.” That hand on Dorian’s cock, regrettably, moved as Cullen shifted off of him and got to his feet. Both hands reached out for Dorian to take, and soon they were both upright.

Dorian’s pants hung low on his hips, and his very obvious erection strained against the material of his underwear. It was a good look, if he said so himself, and he smiled at Cullen as he squeezed the hands he still held. “Here’s hoping I can manage to not trip like this,” he joked, “which would entirely be your fault, by the way.”

“I’ll take that blame,” Cullen laughed, and nodded back toward the hallway that led to the bedroom.

It should have been a short walk. Cullen’s apartment wasn’t exactly huge, but it still took them a good while to even get to the door of the bedroom. Every few steps they stopped, and it was like they couldn’t keep away from each other for even just a few seconds. It was those same deep and heady kisses, the ones that stole Dorian’s breath and kept his blood running hot, which only made it harder to want to move. Cullen kissed him ardently. He held Dorian’s face in close and kissed him like he only needed Dorian to breathe, and Dorian kissed him back.

Hands roamed over backs and chests. Dorian couldn’t get enough. Yes, he wanted to fall in bed with the man, but Dorian wanted to know everything he could about Cullen’s body. He wanted to know how it felt, how it tasted, what it was like when Cullen was completely overwrought with lust. Dorian wanted to know it all. He wanted to have it all. He wanted to have...well, what he wanted most…

Finally they made it to the bedroom. Hands knocked around until the door was open and the light was on. Dorian turned, watched as Cullen closed the door behind them, then moved to step into Cullen’s space and press his back against it. He tipped his head to the side, reached out to rest his hands on Cullen’s hips, and pushed until they were chest to chest with Cullen fully pressed back against the door. He could feel them both, hard and straining, and Dorian leaned in to kiss Cullen again.

Those warm hands cupped Dorian’s face again, and Cullen sighed into the kiss. His hips rocked, bucked against Dorian’s, and they had to break the kiss as soft groans left them both. Dorian’s hands moved to the front of Cullen’s pants, got them undone and pushed them down off his hips as Cullen’s went to finish the job they’d started before. It was a little awkward, laced with little laughs here and there as denim was kicked off and to the side to land on the floor away from them. That was better. Better than better. Their lips met again, and if it were even possible those kisses were hungrier than before.

One of Dorian’s hands snaked between them, wrapped around both their cocks that rubbed together, and gently began to stroke them both. For Dorian, it meant a shiver that went up his spine and the feeling of electricity that went from the top of his head and through his entire body. Cullen panted into his mouth, kept kissing him as best as he was able, but after a moment could only rest his head on Dorian’s shoulder and grip hard at his hips. His lips sought whatever skin the could find at Dorian’s neck, and Cullen’s fingers inched lower to grab at Dorian’s arse. He held them together, groaned for the feeling of both Dorian’s hand and cock rubbing against his own, and bit at Dorian’s shoulder.

“Dorian,” he groaned, “the bed...Maker, please…”

That made him smile, though his hand didn’t stop, and Dorian circled his thumb around the head of Cullen’s cock. He felt Cullen shudder, felt him shake as he slipped a little lower, and that grip on his arse was tighter. Like he was holding on for dear life. Maybe he was. Dorian rather hoped he was. He wanted to see what it was like when Cullen lost himself completely like this.

“What if I want you like this?” Dorian asked. He did that same trick with his thumb again, and Cullen all but collapsed against him.

“Unless you want us both to be on the floor, then…” Cullen began, but cut himself off with a moan, “be my guest, but if you keep doing that…”

Perhaps Cullen was right. It seemed that Cullen’s legs had gone completely to jelly if the way he clung on was any indication. Dorian had no real desire to end up on all fours on the carpet, after all. He’d had more than his fair share of rug burn. So he slowed his hand, let it fall away, and tipped his chin down to catch Cullen’s lips in a softer kiss. “Think you can make it?” he asked, “because I’m not sure I can carry you over my shoulder.

There was a beat where all Cullen did was breathe. His breaths came hard and fast, and for as close as they were Dorian could feel the other man’s heart hammering up against his own chest. “I can make it,” he said finally, “though, uh...any further and we may be out of luck.”

“Good thing I’ve always been lucky then, isn’t it?”

They stumbled to the bed, fell into it together, and those kisses began again. As always, Cullen’s hands cupped Dorian’s face as their lips pressed together then parted so their tongues could taste each other. It was intoxicating. Dorian’s head spun for the feeling of it all as they lay pressed chest to knees together, and kissed like there was no other air in the room. There was nowhere else. Of course there was nowhere else he’d rather be, but there was no world outside the two of them now. No phones. No work. No life. Just Cullen and Dorian. Just them and the feeling of skin on skin, lips and tongues, and warm hands against Dorian’s cheeks.

“I need,” Cullen said between kisses, “you.” Another kiss, “Dorian, please,” and another, “ _please_.”

He was already starting to sink into that hazy place where there were no more jokes. He couldn’t bring himself to be witty anymore for the fire that ran through his blood. Even those words registered somewhere deep in the back of his mind, but were secondary to the feeling of those kisses.

“What do you need?” Dorian managed finally, “how do you...what do you want?”

Amber eyes opened, looked up into grey ones, and Dorian was taken aback by the sight. Cullen: eyes dark with lust, face pink, lips swollen, and his breath coming in shaky pants. He was the most beautiful thing Dorian had ever seen. Pure perfection in that moment. And he wanted. He would do whatever, however, Cullen wanted. Now. Immediately. He couldn’t wait.

“Fuck me,” Cullen whispered, then pulled Dorian back in for a hard kiss that made his lips ache, “ _hard_.”

His world completely rolled for that. Dorian hated boats, hated being out on the waves, but in that one statement he was sent careening through a storm of heat that flared up in his blood. He couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe. All Dorian could do was nod and kiss Cullen back just as hard. It wasn’t exactly how he pictured this going, but none of that mattered. Any expectation he had burned away for those words, and all he wanted to do was exactly what the man asked of him.

Fuck him. Hard. Take him. Lose himself in them both until neither of them could move.

They moved up the bed, and Cullen gestured vaguely in the direction of the night stand. Typical, but Dorian didn’t mind. He had no desire to break away so they could hunt for lube and condoms in some well hidden place. An open drawer afforded him what they needed, and as he leaned over Cullen the man sat up on an elbow and kissed him again. That would drive him to distraction, those kisses, and Dorian bit gently at Cullen’s lip before his free hand forced him back down on the mattress.

Everything was a bit of a blur after that. Cullen’s eyes had widened for just that little show of power, and that had been enough to make Dorian nearly forget what he was doing. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing in the room, then a grunt as Dorian settled himself between Cullen’s legs. He might have turned the man over were he not so astoundingly beautiful. It had never mattered to him to fuck face to face or not, but right now all he wanted was to see the way Cullen reacted as his fingers found the man’s entrance and pushed inside.

More kisses. Cullen held Dorian close, held his hands at the back of his neck so he would move away, and groaned into his mouth as Dorian’s fingers opened him up. Dorian swallowed every moan, every cry, and he rocked into the motion of his fingers as he pushed one, then two, then three inside that tight warmth. Under him, Cullen bucked his hips and squirmed. His grip was a vice to keep Dorian close, and those kisses melded from many to one single one until Dorian felt him relax well enough that he wouldn’t hurt Cullen in a moment.

He pulled his fingers away, smiled against Cullen’s lips for the sound of displeasure that fell from them, and kisses Cullen again. “You may need to let me sit up a bit for this,” he murmured, “I won’t be gone long.”

“Wait,” Cullen breathed, and kissed Dorian again. It was a long kiss, more gentle than before, and so very sweet. Then he let his hands fall back to the bed and nodded, “alright.”

“Tell me if you need me to stop?”

Those hands made fists in the blanket that covered the bed and Cullen looked back up at him with those honey brown eyes that were half hidden under heavy eyelids, “you won’t have to, trust me.”

“Cullen-”

“Maker, Dorian, just fuck me before I go crazy.”

And he did. Another blur of movement afforded him with a condom on now and him leaning over Cullen with one of the man’s legs lifted so his thigh was against Dorian’s chest. Cullen’s knee bent over Dorian’s shoulder, and his other leg resting on the mattress. Dorian could feel Cullen’s ankle pressing hard into him, if only to perhaps give himself a bit of leverage. In one smooth, yet slow, motion Dorian pushed into Cullen and they both groaned for the feeling as Dorian moved inside inch by delicious inch.

Of all the times in the last few weeks that Dorian had imagined this, it was nothing like the real thing. Cullen was tight around him, squeezing so hard Dorian feared he might come just from the pressure and heat, and his voice raised in a shout once Dorian gave him a moment to get used to it before he started thrusting into him. In all those fantasies, all those errant thoughts that made him hot under the collar, Dorian had never imagined it would be as perfect as this moment was.

He made good on Cullen’s request. His thrusts were sure and steady, hard and unfaltering, as Dorian let himself take Cullen with everything he had. The sound of breathing was replaced with the sounds of skin on skin, Dorian’s hips hitting Cullen’s arse so hard that he might be pink cheeked before too long, and the moans and groans and grunts from them both. Dorian could hardly stand it. It was too much: too hot, too tight, too perfect. He was by no means a celibate man, and when he was home he was no stranger to using those fantasies of Cullen to get himself through a lonely night, but he wouldn’t last. Not like this. Not when it was all too much and not nearly enough all at the same time.

“Dorian,” Cullen grunted, and one hand let go of the blanket to catch dark hair so he could pull the other man back down for a kiss. Like that, Cullen was folded nearly in half as they kissed and Dorian thrust into him. They were completely connected now, unable to tell one from the other, and Dorian thrust his tongue into Cullen’s mouth just as hard as he thrust his cock into Cullen’s arse.

Before long, though, Dorian needed to breathe. Those kisses moved to Cullen’s neck as he fucked the man as hard as he could. Cullen clung to him, shouted and moaned, and threw his head back as lips and teeth assaulted his throat.

He wouldn’t last. Maker, Dorian was far too close from the moment he’d pushed inside him the first time. That storm of heat ravaged him just as surely as he ravished Cullen, and it moved to pool low in his belly as he moved his hips. His hands gripped the bed, his lips pressed against Cullen’s pulse, and his thrusts got faster and harder until they stuttered and he ground them against Cullen’s arse as his vision whited out.

Maker, but he wanted more. He’d come, but he wanted more. Dorian groaned, moved his hips again, thrust into Cullen as his cock went soft, and under him Cullen’s back arched. That soft voice, that voice that was so kind and gentle, cried out long and loud as Dorian moved, and they both collapsed against the bed in a tangle of limbs, sweat, and skin.

The world could have ended. Maybe it did. Dorian, however, couldn’t bring himself to care. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he’d just fallen over on top of Cullen, who had been in a rather impressive half folded over position, and hadn’t moved. He hadn’t said anything about needing to shift, though, so Dorian was happy to catch his breath right where he was. Right there, with Cullen’s arms around him and trailing over his back, as they came back to themselves. It was just as perfect as everything else.

“Am I crushing you?” Dorian finally asked once he trusted himself to speak. He was still shaking just a little, and buried his face in against the crook of Cullen’s neck.

A soft laugh, and Dorian smiled when he felt soft lips press a kiss against his forehead, “A little. I don’t mind, though.”

“Legs alright?”

“Ah...actually,” Cullen answered, and Dorian felt Cullen’s hips shift so he could free his leg from where it was still half draped over Dorian’s shoulder to rest against the bed, “better. I’d hate to get a cramp like that.”

“Or it go numb,” Dorian teased.

“Too late for that.”

Then they were both laughing. It was that kind of laugh that only happened after an orgasm like that. Giggles, really. They were two grown men _giggling_ together in bed. Amazing. What was even more amazing was the fact that neither of them had moved to get cleaned up. Dorian was still inside Cullen, though soft, and he made no effort to change that. Not yet. He didn’t want to move from there lest this be well and truly over.

Cullen’s hands were still roaming over Dorian’s back. They were big and warm and strong, and he liked the feeling of it. He was content. Very much so. He smiled, let himself rest across Cullen’s chest, and closed his eyes. Dorian couldn’t remember...well, he’d had many an eventful night with a man, but nothing quite like this. Nothing that ended with warm hands on his back and soft kisses against his hair. With anyone else there would have been movements for a shower or even just a wet rag before clothes were hunted down and goodbyes were said. Here, now, there were no inclinations that either of them wanted that. Not yet.

And then one hand smoothed up Dorian’s back to his shoulder, fingers brushed against his neck and chin, and Cullen urged him to look up. Before his eyes there was a vision of serenity. Sweet Cullen with his face all flushed a rosy pink with kiss-swollen lips. He was smiling a smile Dorian had never known after something like that. Something peaceful. Something...warm. Something that he couldn’t find the words for in his current state. Then Cullen kissed him, and it was one of those same sweet and gentle kisses from before. Again, after everything, Dorian felt it from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

They stayed like that for a while. Just for a while. Dorian liked that he could hear Cullen’s heart go from pounding against his ear to something more normal as they calmed down and relaxed. They kissed, like they had done all night, and Cullen traced his cheeks and nose and jaw with gentle fingers as though he were trying to learn the way his features were put together. In his heart of hearts Dorian wondered if maybe he meant to memorize him in that moment, and he could feel a blush of his own making his cheeks warm.

But then, they really did need to move. They were both a mess with mussed hair and covered in far more fluids than either of them wanted to admit. A shower, one together, where they washed and kissed and got out to wrap themselves in big, fluffy towels. Dorian was...exhausted. In the best way. Tired out and sated. His body hurt a little, though Cullen seemed to be the one having a bit of an issue walking completely right, and Dorian gently patted one arsecheek in apology as they made their way out from the bathroom and back to the bedroom.

Here...this was where the fear set in. They’d had a wonderful night. There had been great food, even better sex, and now they were in the process of picking up clothes off the floor. Dorian didn’t want to admit that he had a tightness about his chest. It was a feeling he knew well: the invitation to leave. They would get dressed, make small talk, and he’d be asked to go home. Normally he didn’t mind, though sometimes it did smart a little more than he liked to say, but his heart was thudding in his chest as he watched Cullen pick up his jeans and hold them out to him.

“So…” the other man began as he held out Dorian’s clothes to him, “I...I mean, I’ve got some pajama bottoms, if you don’t want to get back into these.”

Pajama bottoms? Dorian cocked an eyebrow as he took the offered clothes and held them against his chest, “I suppose an Uber ride would be more comfortable like that…”

Then it was Cullen’s turn to cock an eyebrow, “Uber...ride?” he asked. He licked his lips, and suddenly the man’s expression changed into something else. Fear. Maybe a bit of hurt. Concern. His brows knit together, and one hand clenched into a fist, “you don’t, I mean I thought...that is…”

“Cullen?” Dorian asked. His heart was beating faster then. It was pounding so fast with a hope he didn’t even want to cling to.

“You don’t want to stay? With me?”

Dorian let out a breath he’d been holding for a moment. His body had gone tight and tense in an instant, and he shut his eyes as he let himself breathe a little. “I do,” he answered, “I just didn’t want to assume I could.”

“Assume?” Cullen asked. There was that hurt look again. One that made Dorian’s face flush not from pleasure but from something shameful deep inside his core. He took a few steps closer, reached out for Dorian’s hand, and held it in both of his own. “I guess _I_ assumed. But...stay? Please? I should have asked. I...please, Dorian. Stay. With me. I want you to.”

That hand holding his was so warm, and Cullen’s grip on him was that little bit tighter than it had been before. Dorian’s heart was fluttering, and he took a breath before he squeezed the hand that held his own. “I want to,” Dorian said as he let his clothes drop back to the floor. He took those last couple of steps so he was back in Cullen’s space, and let his forehead rest against the other man’s. “I want to stay with you.”

Just like that the tightness in his chest melted away. That fear and anxiety that maybe Cullen would send him home was gone, and he drank in how it felt to have Cullen holding his hand and nuzzling his nose against Dorian’s cheek. He hadn’t want to go. He didn’t want to have to leave and wonder if this would be just another night in a long list of nights. He didn’t want to feel weird when Cullen texted him and wonder if this, too, was going to devolve into late night _“wyd? Come over”_ messages. He wanted to stay. He wanted Cullen to want him to stay, and he did and Dorian would, and it hurt his heart in the best way.

“Let me get you those pajamas, then,” Cullen said softly before he kissed Dorian’s cheek, “and we can...I don’t know, rustle something up for dessert?”

“That wasn’t enough dessert for you?” Dorian asked with a laugh.

“Another dessert,” Cullen teased before he tipped his chin down to kiss Dorian’s lips, “then maybe another. And another. And another.”

“Maker, I hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a minute to get this one done as Real Life got a bit too Real there for a bit. But we're back on track now, so enjoy some smut and some feelings!
> 
> You can always find me on Tumblr! @sallyamongpoison


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